


Saturday

by tarachamblers



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 07:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6364723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarachamblers/pseuds/tarachamblers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe being up early wasn’t so bad after all. (AU: Brand New Neighbors)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday

Tara Chambler does not set an alarm on Saturdays. In fact, she finds the notion that some people decide to get up before the clock hits double digits on the weekend both insulting and terrifying. Weekends are for long lies, waking up at 2pm and groggily watching TV until midnight. Productivity is for Tuesdays, Thursdays and the people who don’t value sleep.

So, of course, you can imagine her response to being woken up at the crack of dawn by thundering footsteps, loud voices and that one universal fricking beeping noise big trucks make when they reverse. 

It was, quite honestly, one of indescribable rage.

So, there she was. Lying in her comfortable white bed with one pillow wrapped around her skull in an attempt to block the obnoxiously loud beeping from cutting through her for a second longer. Her face contorted in a cross between the agony of being awoken when the sun hadn’t even cleared the horizon and the anger of being awoken when they sun hadn’t even cleared the horizon.

Footsteps thundered outside her apartment door one more time. There was a continuous sound, for about forty seconds, of something very heavy being dragged along the wooden corridors in her complex. As heavy things often do when they are dragged along the floor, it was making a high pitched scraping noise.

If this was not bad enough, she had forgotten to charge her phone before she went to sleep and so it was currently out of charge. Not only was she suffering, but she was suffering in silence. Alone, isolated and unable to complain to her sister or anyone on Facebook.

“What part of me thought it was a good idea to get an apartment with paper thin walls?” she whispered to herself as she turned onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling for about a dozen seconds before she heard a loud, booming voice yelp “Look out!” followed by an absurdly loud crash that resembled a sonic boom.

_That’s it!_

Tara hopped out of bed with surprising energy (it’s nuts what a frenzy of anger about lack of sleep will do to a woman) and grabbed her fluffy, white dressing gown from over her desk chair (because people don’t take well to being yelled at by a woman in just a bra and boyshorts) on the way out of her bedroom. In seconds, she crossed to the door and practically tore the locks off in an attempt to pull it open. She got stuck on one and frustratedly cried out and punched the door.

Eventually, she yanked it open and stormed out into the hallway.

“Don’t you people have any common courtesy? It’s 6am! If you have to do whatever crap it is you’re doing, at least do it quietly!” she was kicking herself up into serious rage now. Some poor man with a pencil behind his ear and a clipboard in his hands was getting the brunt of her wrath. He was frantically apologising.

Tara was about to start the second half of her rant (about how it’s practically illegal to do this so early, like firing fireworks off after a certain time or whatever) but she was cut off as a woman a little bit smaller then her rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and walked straight into the middle of the argument.

She stumbled over her words, suddenly unable to untangle her tongue. The woman looked apologetic, as if she’d done something bad to Tara that she had to be forgiven for. Tara found it hard to fathom that this woman could do anything that required forgiveness.

“I’m sorry!” this new woman began. Tara blinked some of the sleep out of her eyes and stared at her while she talked. She was in blue dungarees, one strap undone, with a black shirt underneath. She wore two startlingly gold hoop earrings, “I’m so sorry for all the noise. It’s just that–”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Tara said, without even thinking. Suddenly, all the anger over being awoken so early seemed to melt away. The rage physically alleviated itself from her. The corners of her mouth curved up into a smile. The other woman smiled back, quickly, and then continued.

“I’m just moving in right now. I didn’t want to do it this early, believe me, I love my long lies on a Saturday,” she rambled. She talked with her hands. Tara felt a little bit too smitten too fast, “But this is the only time my delivery company was able to do it. Trust me, the last thing I want to do is piss off my new neighbors before I’ve even moved in.”

Tara grinned widely for a few moments, “I understand, totally.”

The other woman allowed herself to smile in relief. “I’ll let you, uh, get back to sleeping.” Her eyes looked Tara up and down and Tara quickly glanced down at herself and realised that her dressing gown belt had come loose and she was standing basically in her underwear. What’s worse, her bra had come a bit loose in all the smacking of the door and her nipple was peeking out of the fabric. She immediately squealed.

“Oh my God!” she quickly tied the belt once again and clapped a hand to her face to hide the warm blush that had sprang immediately. The other woman giggled good-naturedly. 

“I suppose you got me back then. I woke you up at the crack of dawn, you flash me.” She ran her hand through her fringe and looked up at Tara’s face once more, “At least buy me dinner first. I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s–uh, it’s Tara. I’m sorry. I’m going to go now before I embarrass myself any further, thank you. Have a nice day and welcome to the neighborhood.” Tara said quickly, heading for the door of her apartment. She hurridly threw herself inside, grabbed the door, and slammed it shut.

Tara fell back against the door and breathed heavily. She undid the belt and adjusted her bra, then did the belt again. She smacked her hand against her head, then grimaced at the dull pain.

The knock from behind her startled her and she yelped. Embarrassed once again, she turned around and stuck her eye to the hole in the door to see who it was. There was no point. She knew exactly who it was.

“Just so you know, my name is Rosita. And Tara…” Rosita looked directly into her eyes through the view hole. Her mouth creeped into a smug smirk. “How does next Friday sound for that dinner?”

And with a wink, she vanished from the door. Her giggling could be faintly head through the paper-thin walls. Tara turned and pressed her back against the door, sliding down until she was sitting with her knees against her chest on the floor. She hid her shit-eating grin in her hands.

Maybe being up early wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
